


Don't Stop Me Now

by NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Flying, Gen, M/M, Playing Keep Away, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is feeling particularly playful one day and decides to entice Aziraphale to chase him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stop Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/128597396510/dont-stop-me-now

If there had been anybody around to see it this far up, they would have seen a figure floating serenely through rolling puffs of cumulonimbus clouds, painted piles of cotton smudged against a heavenly blue background, with one black dot going over and under and through their incorporeal bulk.

They would have seen the figure flap its wings once, do a few great, arcing loops, then fold them back towards its body and dive towards the ground.

It would have looked extremely out of place, a man in a suit and snakeskin shoes in this context.  But there was no one around to think so, and he fell towards the earth unnoticed, his tie flapping fiercely.  


  


* * *

Aziraphale hurried up the stairs, keeping hold of his book, running towards the banging noise

“What on _earth_  is that?” he muttered, flinging the door to his oft-unused bedroom open.  


He got his answer when he saw the bottom half of a pair of legs in the window.

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale, pulling the door to the little balcony open and sticking his head out.  The demon was balancing on the railing, his hands in his pockets, a lopsided grin on his face, his raven black wings spread out and  iridescing deep blue in the sunlight.  


“Angel!” he said.  “It’s a lovely day out, don’t you think?  England’s actually getting some sunshine for once.”  


Aziraphale smiled, looking out at street* the small balcony overlooked.  “It is.”

* * *

*It was empty, otherwise Aziraphale would have been chastising him for having his wings out.

* * *

“Are you planning to spend it all inside, then?” said Crowley, fanning his wings.  


Truth be told, Aziraphale _had_  planned to spend it all inside.  He was in the middle of a series sixteen books long, and hadn’t seen natural sunlight in a while.  Crowley’s statement that it was a lovely day had been the first time he had given the outside world any thought since he started.

Crowley seemed to read this on the angel’s face in the instant he was deciding what to answer, and snatched the book out of his hand.

“Hey!”  


“Come on, Aziraphale, when was the last time you went flying?   _Really_  flying?”

Aziraphale couldn’t even remember.  “Crowley, are you saying-”

With a flourish, a rush of wings, and a gust of air that buffeted Aziraphale back, Crowley was gone.

“Hey!” said Aziraphale again, watching the demon’s wing-beats carrying him higher and higher.  He rolled his eyes.  He knew what the demon was doing, of course.  Privately, he could not bring himself to disapprove.

Aziraphale clambered up onto the railing, checking below him for anyone who might see, and his own wings burst forth from his back, broad, speckled tan things, and he lifted off.

He had an embarrassing amount of difficulty getting into the air; although his wings were bigger than Crowley’s, his corporation was a good deal heavier as well, and although angels and demons can zip as fast as an electron when they choose, Aziraphale did not like to cheat unless things were serious,** and had a feeling Crowley wouldn’t either because it would drain the fun out of it.

* * *

**They weren’t.

* * *

Crowley was clutching the book to his chest, hovering there and waiting for Aziraphale to catch up.  Aziraphale’s labored wing-beats finally brought him level with the demon, and he held out his hand.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” said Crowley, who pivoted in the air and shot off.  


Aziraphale gave chase, shouting up at him, “You give that back this instant!”

“Or what?” yelled Crowley, snaking down in front of Aziraphale.  


“Or...I’ll smite you!”  


“Oh, I bet you will--if you could catch me with those wings of yours, you great turkey!”  


It became serious in Aziraphale’s mind in that instant, and his wings carried him aloft as he zoomed to close the distance between them.  Crowley’s speed picked up to match; he had obviously not been flying at full throttle before.

He was now, but Aziraphale was on him in an instant, and the two zig-zagged around each other, darting in and dashing away, dancing around each other in a high-speed chase.

“Gotcha!” said Aziraphale, his hand closing around Crowley’s leg.  


Crowley rolled so that his back was to the ground, which was by now far, far below them.  Aziraphale drifted forwards and grabbed his shoulders, their wings parallel, flying belly-to-belly.

“So you have,” said Crowley as they began to slow, leveling out to a light drift.  “And what are you going to do with me?”  


“Just as I said before, I’m going to smite you.”  


Crowley’s sunglasses were long gone; his naked golden eyes stared into Aziraphale.  “Go on, then.”

Aziraphale stared back for a moment before plunging his fingers into Crowley’s belly.

Crowley gave an exclamation and began to writhe in the air.  “Ah-ah!  Angel, you- ahhaha!  Stop!”

Aziraphale continued tickling him mercilessly, his howls of laughter and mock outrage ringing in the empty sky and bouncing through the clouds.  He kicked free of Aziraphale and broke away, rocketing away again.

He still had the book.  Aziraphale tilted and climbed higher and higher, keeping Crowley in sight, the demon’s figure a shrinking line with two great feathery outlines on either side.

Aziraphale flapped twice in preparation for a dive bomb.

There was suddenly an enormous crashing sound, as though someone above the sky had slammed a door, and a bolt of white hot light shrieked out of the sky directly at Crowley.

It just barely missed, grazing the demon’s wing, and he veered away and vanished into the distance instantly, leaving a few dislodged feathers in his wake to drift slowly down.

Aziraphale pulled up, horror on his face.

“Missed.”  


Aziraphale swung in the air and saw another enormous figure in the sky with him, huge white wings beating in time with his own.  “Gabriel,” said Aziraphale, just barely managing to keep his voice neutral.

“Hello, Aziraphale,” said Gabriel, a weapon vanishing from his hands as he spoke.  “It was a careless shot.  I must be slipping.”  


Aziraphale could feel his jaw clenching.  “It happens to the best of us, sir.”

Gabriel gave him a critical look.  “Yes....  Apologies for interfering, but you seemed to be having an _awfully_  hard time smiting that demon.  That _is_  why you were chasing him, isn’t it?”  His tone suggested unpleasant things might happen if the answer wasn’t _yes_.

“Of course, sir.”  


“Good.  Don’t be afraid to call for reinforcements if you need them, Aziraphale.  There’s no need to be embarrassed, even if it _is_  about needing help with one demon.”  


“Yes, sir.”  


“Good.”  


Aziraphale found himself alone in the sky, then, and it felt much emptier even though the same clouds piled up on one another were still there.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

“J-Just a moment!” said a slightly frazzled voice from inside Crowley’s flat.  


Aziraphale waited, hearing something rustling a ways off, wondering politely what Crowley was doing.  The truth was that Crowley was changing his pants and trousers because he did not want the angel to see the wet, dark spot that had appeared by his crotch.

The door swung open a moment later, Crowley smoothing down his hair.

“Hello, again,” said Aziraphale.  


“Right, hello,” said Crowley.  


“You, ah...”  Aziraphale held out his hand.  “You still have my book.”  


“Your....Oh, right, right.”  He reappeared a moment later and set the volume in the angel’s hand.  “There you are. I...er, sorry about that.”  


“No, _I_  am,” said Aziraphale.  “Did it...Are you hurt at all?”  


Crowley rubbed his arm.  “Well, it- it just grazed my wing a little.  Lost a few primaries, that’s about it.  Besides getting my feathers all ruffled up and out of place.”

“Well,” said Aziraphale, ducking his head to see inside the demon’s flat.  “Would you like me to come in and see to fixing that?”  


Crowley stared at him, seemingly incredulous.  He shook himself.  “Er, well...If you’d like.  Yeah. Why not?”

There _was_  some smiting that time, but it was just of stray feathers that needed to be plucked and rearranged.


End file.
